Killing Me Softly
by malachite157
Summary: - Everybot seems to be in some kind of trouble, although none of them realize just how much trouble awaits them... Fourth in the 'Losing Face' series
1. Default Chapter

**Killing Me Softly**

**By: **Sapphire (aka Malachite157)

**PG **L

_Every whisper  
Of every waking hour I'm  
Choosing my confessions  
Trying to keep an eye on you  
Like a hurt, lost and blinded fool  
Oh no I've said too much  
I set it up _

Consider this  
The hint of the century  
Consider this  
The slip that brought me  
To my knees failed  
What if all these fantasies  
Come flailing around?  
Now I've said too much

- Losing my Religion, by R.E.M.

* * *

"He's back." 

Optimus had just spoken to himself and was almost surprised at the sound of his own voice. He'd been waiting in a tense, long silence since Rattrap had left. Now the Maximal was within a few meters of the blast doors. Optimus got up from his chair and went to the entrance to greet his comrade.

The doors opened and Rattrap transformed from vehicle mode to robot mode. He let out a sigh.

"PHEW!"

Optimus looked at the Transmetal's scathed shins. "Looks like you came out there with some war wounds."

"Eh, a hot energon bath and some polish and I'll be as good as new."

The doors closed and Optimus inclined his head towards the control room. Rattrap nodded and started explaining the night's events to Optimus as they walked there.

Ten cycles and many expressive hand gestures later, Rattrap had come to the end of his story.

"So I dunno. Could be some sort 'o weapon, or it could be somethin' else."

Optimus nodded thoughtfully. "Hmm...it sounds too vague. It could have been a decoy."

"Maybe, but he had protected it wid' a force field. It was obviously of _some_ importance."

"Did you find anything else suspicious while you were there?"

Rattrap stroked his chin as he thought back. "Well, I heard Megs orderin' Rampage about. Looks like da crab's back wid' his team."

"That'd be the first time he's been inside his base since Myst arrived. She disappeared off the scanners some megacycles ago," Optimus said.

Rattrap's optics widened a little, then he remembered what the femmebot had said to him a few days ago and felt less concerned. "Oh. Dat could mean one 'o two things."

"She's got a signature blocker like you now, or she's..." Optimus trailed.

Rattrap nodded and looked away, a grim expression on his face. He regretted wishing the worst for her. Even if her attack on his faction had been uncalled for, she didn't deserve to die, especially at the hands of Rampage. The crab bot was a gruesome killer.

"Hm. Well, curious thing was that Rampage appeared when she _dis_appeared. So I'm inclined to think that he actually gave her his blocker," Optimus informed his friend.

Rattrap immediately felt better, although he didn't show it. "Yeah well, it's unimportant. What's gettin' ta me is dat I nevah got ta check da other rooms. Da control room or Meg's quarters. Dere mighta been some'n in dere dat coulda given us some clues."

"You can't go back now," Optimus stated the obvious. "So we're just going to have to make some assumptions until we somehow get more information on what he's up to."

Rattrap looked unhappy with that decision. "I dunno, Pop Op. I got dis naggin' feelin' dat if we don't do somethin' soon, we're gonna be in big trouble..."

* * *

Waspinator was just finishing up cleaning the laboratory when he heard echoing footsteps and voices drifting down the hallway. He froze, his hand still holding a rag against the outer wall of the lab which he'd just patched up and was now polishing. He discerned the voices as Megatron's and Tarantulas's. He cranked up the volume of his audio receptors and listened. Usually he wouldn't be bothered, but since he was now in a secret alliance against Megatron, he felt it was his duty to take note of what the tyrant was up to. 

"did she put up much of a fight?" Megatron asked.

"Yes, but my arachnoids soon dealt with her."

"She's dead now, I assume?"

"She will be, soon. I left her to suffer."

"Right."

There was the sound of a door whirring open, the clatter of metal feet as they entered a room out of view, and the door whirred closed. Silence dominated the base once more. Waspinator was still frozen, processing the information. Who were they talking about?

He remembered Myst saying to Rampage that others were out to kidnap her. Since Blackarachnia was the only other shebot on this planet, Waspinator was almost certain they were talking about Myst. According to Tarantulas, she was left for dead somewhere. Waspinator wasn't sure why the spider had done something so horrible to her, but one thing he was sure of was that Rampage would want to hear of this. Myst was a part of their alliance, and what happened to her affected them all. He dropped the rag and set off to find the crab.

Rampage knew Megatron was busy with something because the leader had all but deserted the main areas of the base. It was very late at night, but the tyrant was not in his room, as the door to his quarters was still ajar and Rampage had peeked into the darkness to find his recharge bed empty. That meant that he was not watching his own private monitors, and he wasn't watching the main monitors, either.

Coming to the conclusion that Megatron was busy in some secret room, he decided this was the best chance he was going to get to leave the base unnoticed or at least unhindered.

He transformed to robot mode and headed for the control room. He was intercepted, however, by a rather aggravated looking Waspinator.

The little wasp flew in front of him, front legs waving for him to stop. He did and glared at him. "What is it, bug?"

"Waspinator just heard" he paused to look about him, then flew closer to Rampage and continued in a low voice. "Waspinator just overheard Megatron and spiderbot talking about fuzor femme. Spiderbot said he left her to die!"

Rampage drew back suddenly from the wasp, a frightening light in his green optics. Waspinator backed away from him and out of his path.

Rampage clenched his fist and growled: "Tarantulas." Then he started forward again. Waspinator called after him.

"What crabbot going to do!"

Rampage stopped at the wasp's question. He had an idea, but he realized then that he could use Waspinator's help for it. He turned to face the Predacon bug. "I'm going after her. Did you see where Megatron went?"

"No, but Waspinator has a good idea."

"I want you to keep an eye out for him. When he emerges, contact me. My comm. lines are open now."

"Waspinator understands," the wasp said, although it was only partly true. He figured Rampage would want to get back before Megaron noticed, but he wasn't sure what the crabbot planned on doing when he found Myst. He decided it was out of his hands now, and he'd just do what he was told. With that, he turned away and headed back towards the laboratory, audios intently alert. He'd finish polishing and touching up in the meantime.

When Rampage entered the control room, he saw Quickstrike sitting at the computers, his feet up on the console. He was humming to himself, probably to keep awake. There was nothing more boring than doing monitor duty at night.

Quickstrike could see Rampage's signature entering the control room and so he turned to face the crabbot.

"Well there crabby, what are you doing up so late?"

Rampage walked over to the fuzor with malice in his stride. Quickstrike noticed the sign of hostility.

"Hey now, I didn't mean anything by the nick name..." Quickstrike sat up straight in his chair. The next thing he knew, Rampage was standing over him, a dark gaze fixed on him.

"You won't say anything about my movements from this moment on, will you Quickstrike?" he asked quietly.

Quickstrike raised an optic ridge in confusion. "You mean"

Rampage's fists clenched and Quickstrike caught on. "Oh! Oh, no, no... I ain't gonna peep about what you do tonight. Consider yourself a free agent."

Ever since Rampage rode over him in tank mode, Quickstrike had realized the crabbot cared nothing for his fellow Predacons and was not a bot to be messed with. He had his pride, but he was not naïve, and was therefore going to give into his request. There was no point in defying him. Even he knew that taking Rampage on was complete lunacy when you were a bot of his size.

"Good," Rampage said curtly and moved off. Quickstrike watched him leave before settling back into his chair. Who knew what that guy did when he was out alone? There'd been rumours he was spending time with the rogue femme who'd been lurking in the jungle for a while now, although Quickstrike couldn't think of why.

"Maybe they like to torture each other in their spare time." He snickered at the images his mind conjured up.

He idly watched the crabbot's signature move away from the Predacon base and started thinking up excuses to tell Megatron when the tyrant asked how Rampage had slipped out of base without him seeing. He could only hope that Rampage returned before Megatron noticed his absence.

* * *

Rampage closed his eyes and concentrated. As soon as he'd stepped outside, he'd been aware of it. 

Pain.

He was drawn to it and let his instinct lead him to the location. He walked north east of the Predacon ship towards the base of a staggered formation of rocks.

It wasn't long before he was close enough to see a form lying sprawled on the earth. So it was true. Tarantulas had gotten to Myst before he'd been able to get to Tarantulas.

Quietly, as was his manner, Rampage walked up to Myst's limp form. She was much the same as she'd been the first time Tarantulas had attacked. Lying on her back, her chest was open and bloody, but this time her internals were far more damaged. Wires had been cut and yanked aside and there was something missing from beside her spark. Rampage had endured enough body experiments to have a fairly good knowledge of a Transformer's insides. It was Myst's power converter that had been removed.

She appeared to be unconscious at first, but he could tell by her very slight optic flickers and the occasional soft grunt of pain that she was barely awake. Her body was wracked every few seconds by sudden jolts of energy. Her fingers were digging into the earth and her back arched with every jolt.

Her pain was tremendous. Rampage could feel it: - a vague echo of it coursed through his body. His spark pulsed faster than usual and he began to breath more heavily. It was a sensation he'd felt many times, the most acutely when he'd escaped at Omicron. He'd always been aware of every bot's pain and fears, but when he escaped instead of trying to avoid contact with them, he'd had the urge to heighten their unpleasant feelings. He had wanted to make it worse because somehow, all their emotions of sadness, of discontentment, of fear and hurt were insults to him. They had nothing to complain about! He had endured more suffering in one experiment session than they had in their entire lives. He felt a mixture of hatred and contempt for every bot he'd killed on that colony, along with his lust for revenge.

Myst, however, was going through one of the worst pains imaginable. Rampage knew, because he'd felt it before. It was one of the many agonizing experiments they'd put him through. How long could his spark survive without a converter? Forever, it seemed, although he grew weaker and weaker as the days went by, but his accursed immortal life force refused to extinguish. Rampage had wanted to die, he had so wanted to fade away like a normal bot would. His immortality was far more a curse than a gift.

He gradually lowered his body into a hunched position and observed Myst with a mixture of curiosity and empathy. It was then she became aware of him.

Her optics lit up, but they were dimmer than usual. She turned her head to look at him.

"You're too late," she whispered.

Rampage sensed a surprising emotion from her: sadness.

Another particularly violent surge of energy rippled through her and she jerked and clenched her teeth, optics shutting off momentarily. The wave passed and she eased back down, panting heavily.

Gradually, she turned to him again, looking weary and defeated. "Get out of here. I'm not...going to make it."

Rampage tilted his head to one side. "You do not fear death."

Myst blinked up at him. "No. I used to, but now I long for it. This pain, it's too much to bear."

Rampage nodded with genuine sympathy. He had been there. Oh, had he been there...

Myst turned her head away and looked up at the stars. "At least...I've got a nice...final view."

Rampage glanced up at the sky and noticed how bright the stars were this night. They twinkled down at him in deceptive peace. In reality, they were burning at high temperatures and the ones that twinkled and changed colour were in fact dying.

"A fine view, yes," Rampage agreed gently. He looked at her and saw that her eyes were half-closed as she was most likely fading out of consciousness.

"Rampage," she barely whispered. "I'm...I'm sorry."

He frowned, surprised at her statement. "Sorry? For what?"

Myst swallowed hard and closed her eyes. "For what you had to go through. I wish...I wish I could have helped you...helped you become free. I know that I seemed reluctant...but now, now I feel unhappy that I didn't do it. Like the pact...was broken. I'm going to freedom, in a sense, and-and I'm leaving you behind. That wasn't the deal, so...so I'm sorry."

Rampage realized how still he'd grown. He was frozen in that position, hunched over her, eyes fixed on her fuchsia optics. He was mesmerized by her. A strange sensation rose up inside of him, one that he had never felt before. He didn't even know what to call it.

"Myst, you didn't fail me," he found himself saying.

Myst smiled briefly then curled up her hands into balls, probably as she felt another shot of pain go through her systems. "Rampage..."

"What?"

"You're going soft."

He shifted slightly. "Perhaps I am."

A long silence settled over them and Rampage found himself feeling a growing sense of frustration and anger. This was not only a direct insult to him from Tarantulas, this was fate cheating him again. Cheating him of...

...of a friend.

Images of Transmutate's shattered body and her head in his hands flashed across his mind's eye. It wasn't fair. She hadn't deserved to die. She hadn't needed to be taken away from him.

And Myst... The femmebot was certainly no saint and perhaps he wasn't in a position to judge whether she deserved this or not, but it was a terrible fate nonetheless. To lie out here suffering for days on end until your spark finally sputtered out... Even he could hardly bear the memory of it.

"Don't be angry, Rampage," Myst startled him. His eyes widened with surprise. She'd been reading him.

"It won't help any. I have one last favour to ask you," she said with some difficulty.

"Tell me."

A grim expression contorted her attractive face. "Put me out of my misery. End it, now."

Rampage drew back at the request. It wasn't that it shocked him - it was a very logical decision she had made. She would die slowly otherwise. What struck him was the irony of it all, the absurdity of the situation.

Myst was asking a homicidal killer, hated for his crimes against the transformer race, feared and reviled by all who'd encountered him, to kill her. Only, she didn't know that about him.

"Why do you think I'd do that for you, Myst? Now that the deal we made is null and void," he asked straightforwardly.

She let out a quivering sigh. "Because...you're not a bad person."

Rampage stared at her and after a lengthy period of inactivity, Myst opened her eyes again. She wondered what was going through his mind at that moment. She could sense a whir of emotions coming from him, but she was too weak and in too much pain to decipher them anymore.

Finally, he spoke. "Brace yourself, Myst."

A pang of fear finally kicked in. Her spark started to pulse faster and she was uncomfortably aware that he could actually see it doing so. She didn't want to show weakness in the form of fear to him. She had already said she didn't mind dying, but now that it came to it she found that she was afraid. She nodded slightly and closed her eyes. There was nothing for it. Her body was broken and she would only be a liability to him now if he kept her alive. It was for the best that her suffering be ended here and now. She felt miserable that it should come to this. Life had well and truly given her a raw deal.

Rampage readjusted himself so that he was kneeling and therefore sturdier. He reached for her chest with his right hand, while the left went for her neck. He'd strangle her while he squeezed her spark. He'd done it before, only this time he'd not do it slowly. He'd give her that much mercy.

As his fingers touched her throat she began to shiver. Her whole body twitched at the feel of his metal hands. The fear and the pain were combined now into one powerful aura around her.

"Don't be frightened, Myst," he soothed. "It won't hurt for long."

She nodded rapidly and clenched her fists while squeezing her eyes tightly shut.

He slipped his fingers into her chest and curled them around her quivering spark. The touch of her life energy on his metal skin brought back familiar sensations. He tightened his grip on her neck and she tensed.

And then something happened. In that moment, he felt something twinge deep down inside of him and he finally realized what it was.

Pity.

* * *

The wind was biting and it seemed to enter her body through every crack and opening in her armour. She bowed her head and pushed forward, knowing that soon she'd be some place warm and cosy. 

Finally she came up to the front door of the establishment she knew so well. She hit the electric knob and the door slid open with a hiss. The warmth of the room greeted her and she entered, the door shutting promptly behind her. In front of her sat three male transformers. They sat on high chairs, with mugs of some energon drink steaming up their faces. To her right on the benches a group of three males and two females sat murmuring quietly to themselves. The bar tender looked tired an bored, leaning against the far left wall and looking distant. The air was stifled, warm, smoggy. The overhanging lights were dull and the globes cracked and dirty. It was the same as always. Nothing ever changed.

She walked to the bar table and sat on a highchair beside one of the males. He was staring desolately into his drink, a deep gash in his cheek. She rested her arms on the bar counter while letting out a very weary sigh. For several moments she too just stared forward, comfortable in her tiredness. She'd had a long, dreary day where nothing good nor particularly bad had happened. She felt worn and apathetic. The flickers of the television to her left gradually drew in her attention. Glancing up, she saw bold red writing captioning images of death and destruction. Transformer bodies lay strewn and dismantled in the streets and medical bots were wandering listlessly through them. There didn't appear to be anyone alive to save. The writing spelled out: Explosion Accident Levels Omicronian Colony

The scenes of devastation, of torn bodies covered in mech fluid and limbs and parts littering the streets should have shocked her. They did make her feel something. She felt unsettled seeing so much death, but it all seemed so distant from her safe haven and she found herself numb and desensitised from years of living in the Predacon slums, where she saw bodies in the street all the time, due to gang violence. Death was so common to her that it no longer horrified her. A whole colony however... Well, that was truly tragic. Omicron was a totally Maximal colony and so she didn't feel obliged to do any mourning. Sure, she was a Maximal now but her core was Predacon. Not that she cared for either faction, truth be known.

"Hey 'Cury. You just gonna sulk or are you gonna sulk with a drink?" the bar tender asked, suddenly breaking out of his daze.

She looked away from the television and stared at the bulky male bot for a few seconds before answering. "You know what to get me, H."

With a knowing flicker of a smile, H got to work on serving her her favourite energon drink. Meanwhile she let her chin rest atop her folded arms and she stared forward, listening to the soft sounds of the television.

"All but one of the guardians died in the explosion. He is a miracle survivor in what has been a catastrophe of epic proportions. Unfortunately, he is not around for questioning. He is staying at a medical facility in neighbouring colony Taika, undergoing mental treatment to help him cope with the aftershock. He lost a wife to the explosions."

Mercury blinked slowly, absorbing the reporter's words with detached interest. She couldn't imagine what it must be like to lose a loved one like that. She'd never had a loved one.

"Here ya go, lovey."

She saw the drink being placed next to her from the corner of her eye. "Thanks," she muttered. She knew H so well, she didn't have to express much courtesy. He knew she respected him.

The news continued to filter through the thick air to her audios. "Five hundred and forty three dead. Officials are investigating the cause of the accident."

There was a harsh, grating noise to her left and it took her a moment to realize it was the scarred bot snorting. She could see him shaking his head bitterly, a sneer on his face. "Accident my skidplate. Slagging liars." He punctuated his sentence with a rough metallic cough.

Myst sat up and turned her head to look at him. "What do you think it is?" she asked him.

Surprised at her sudden interest, he pulled his face away from his half-empty drink and gazed at her with a frown.

"I think it's a scandal," he answered slowly. "The Maximal government are covering up for something else. A terrorist attack would be my first guess. With so much unrest, one successful massacre from the Predacons could set the whole of Cybertron off."

Mercury folded her arms and smirked. "They'd never be able to get enough Predacons on that colony to kill over five hundred Maximals. The satellite controls are far too strict."

"Who says it has to be many Predacons?" he defended. "Could just take one to set off the supposed explosion, although if you look at those bodies you'll see that all of them have holes in their chests. Someone tore out their sparks, personally."

Mercury recoiled at his words, a look of disgust on her face. "That's sick."

"Yeah, well, Predacons are sick," he grunted and lowered his face to his mug again.

Mercury regarded him coldly for a few moments, before turning back to the television screen. Replays of the footage of the dead shone into her eyes. She felt a cold shiver run down her back when she realized he was telling the truth. Each carcass had a torn chest with the spark casings ripped open. The news station only seemed to replay footage of one street, as if they didn't want to show them the rest.

"Can you see the pattern?" she heard him ask. His gruff voice seemed to grate on her audios. It sent chills through her body.

"Can you see how each body has a signature? One guy, or at least a team using the same techniques, did this."

She stared with morbid fascination at the bodies. Every one had split chests and shredded casings. It was as if someone had plunged a great hand into their torsos and pulled them apart, then brutally rendered the casings.

"There are rumours they breed monsters on that colony. Maybe one of them escaped...or was set free," the bot beside her leered.

She found that too much. She wheeled on him with a scolding glare. "Shut up! No one bot could have done that. No one bot is _powerful_ enough to do that and the Maximals...they wouldn't make something like that. This is an accident and nothing more."

"Explain the chests, then," he pressed.

Mercury rolled her optics and hopped off her chair. "Freak accident. A power beam through a queue. I dunno! I don't care," she said irritably. She took her drink and guzzled it all in one go. She quickly took out her credit card and swiped it over the pay machine, before heading for the stairs in the right hand corner. They would lead up to her dingy little apartment, but she wanted to be there now. The mech's haunting theories, however far-fetched, were starting to get to her.

She climbed the stairs, scowling all the way. She passed a femmebot who spat at her. "Slagging convert. Go back to the Predacon slums where you belong! Your tacky Maximal insignia isn't hiding anything!"

Mercury ignored the comment. She was used to Maximals attacking her verbally about being a Predacon turncoat. She had learned long ago it wasn't worth the effort responding to such racism.

She came up onto the landing and walked straight to her door. High-pitched laughter drifted down the passageway from one of the neighbouring rooms. She pushed into her room and slammed the door shut.

A note was on the floor that had obviously been slipped under the door. She picked it up and read: "GO HOME PREDACON FILTH"

"To the Pit with you," she cursed softly and crumpled up the note. She strode over to her bed, turned around and lay on her back. She stared up at the cracked ceiling, eyes wide open. A dull murmuring wafted to her ears and she shut her optics, trying to focus on the noise.

"Where would I be... They are all so miserable... I can't bear to look at you...dying... so ignorant."

She frowned, trying to make sense of the broken sentences. The voice was familiar. It tickled something far at the back of her mind. There was something about that voice that she had to remember.

"Massacred them...felt nothing."

Them. Who was he referring to?

A memory came back to her and it was a memory of his voice, saying something...something important.

_"I was a prisoner in a Maximal colony. They created me to be a super soldier for them, because they were afraid of a possible Predacon uprising. I was to be their weapon."_

She turned over, eyes shut tightly and a frown creasing across her face. How many Maximal colonies were there? Three. Taika, Sheredon and Omicron.

_"I escaped and left, and for four stellar cycles Depth Charge pursued me. He was chief of security at the base I was kept in and I guess he felt responsible for my getting away."_

Mercury's eyes flew open and her mouth gaped in a silent scream as the realization struck her.

_"I guess he felt responsible. They created me to be a super soldier. Prisoner...Maximal Colony..."_

The murmuring voice that had been droning in the background grew steadily louder and she listened intently to the words.

"Myst, you are so beautiful. What a shame to tear you up like this. What a terrible, terrible shame."

She jerked, a sudden, sharp stabbing pain in her chest and she cried out. Darkness enveloped her and the world went deathly quiet. All she could hear was the dull thud of her fuel pump in her ears and the murmuring voice, low and husky in her head.

"You remind me of her. Yes, you were both so naïve. You both trusted me. Transmutate was taken from me. Myst... I _killed _her."

The voice started to fade away and she felt her dream slipping from her mind. She mentally clawed to keep dreaming, to hang onto what she had discovered, but she was powerless against her mind's will to drift into deeper sleep.

The last thing she heard was: "You hurt again. Let me amend that..."

* * *

The lights were dim in this cramped little room and it seemed to add to the heavy, weary atmosphere of late-night work. 

Megatron stifled a yawn as he punched in a few keys on a machine. It was a small construction machine and it put things in the right place when building something complex. It was putting together the last of the weapon's charge components and after that, Tarantulas would add the finishing touches.

The spider was monitoring the process on a computer, drumming his fingers on a bare part of the console. "Almost done. At this rate, your weapon will be ready by tomorrow...erm, later today, rather," he said glancing at the time. It was 4 in the morning.

Megatron nodded absently, the need for recharge dominating him. The machine beeped thrice, alerting them both that it had completed its function. The straps over the gun released and Megatron took it from its hold. It was a big, bulky gun, even for a strong bot like himself, but it was still light enough to carry.

"Put it on the table, and I'll add the last little bits," Tarantulas said a little tiredly.

Megatron did just that and watched as the spider took a few tools and opened a panel on the side of the black and silver gun. He put in a chip and set to work installing the miniature computer. He worked quickly and skillfully and Megatron couldn't help but admire the spider's extensive knowledge on such things.

"So the power converter is embedded in the structure of the weapon now, and all you need now is to program some basic functions," Megatron stated more than asked.

"Yes," Tarantulas muttered. Megatron watched him for several cycles and was just starting to nod off when Tarantulas clapped his claws together. "There!" he stated, a satisfied look on his face.

Megatron smiled involuntarily. He was more happy at that stage that his night shift was over than for the weapon's actual completion. He was too tired to feel excited.

It therefore took him a little while to notice Tarantulas's expectant, impatient look and his tapping foot.

"Right, your parts," the Predacon leader sighed. "Most of them are in that trunk over there," he pointed to the corner of the room. "The others were in the laboratory...which the rodent destroyed."

Tarantulas did not look impressed. "So?"

Megatron was growing irritated, but he curbed his anger. "So I'll have more parts ready for you later today. I'll need to sift through what I have left in storage before I can assemble the rest."

"Fine," Tarantulas snorted and turned to the trunk. He opened the lid and checked the contents before he was satisfied. He heaved it up and looked toward the exit a little nervously.

"Rampage is here, isn't he?" Tarantulas asked warily.

Megatron nodded. "He should be asleep at this ungodly hour of the morning, but this IS Rampage we're talking about, so I'll check."

Tarantulas agreed that was a good idea and remained in the safety of the hidden room while Megatron walked a little crookedly through the hallways to the control room.

When he got there, he was mildly surprised to see Quickstrike was obediently still awake at his post. "Quickstrike," he growled.

The fuzor might have been awake, but he obviously wasn't paying much attention to the screens. He jumped a little in his chair at the sound of the tyrant's voice.

"Ahh! Uh, yes, bossbot?"

"Where is Rampage?"

Quickstrike turned nervously to the screens, deliberately blocking Megaton's view with his body. "Uh, he's still in base."

Had Megatron been less weary, he'd probably have acted upon the hint of uncertainty in the fuzor's voice. Instead, he decided he didn't have the energy to deal with the crab if he wasn't in base. They had the power converter now, and that was all that was important.

"Where, exactly?"

"In his quarters, boss."

Megatron nodded slowly and activated his comm. "Tarantulas, it's clear."

He terminated the link and headed back to the secret room to make sure the spider didn't take the weapon along with him. One could never be too careful with that treacherous arachnid.

He failed to notice Waspinator watching him from the shadows.

* * *

Myst opened her eyes to a dull grey sky. It must have been early morning for the sounds of night animals still filled the air, but she could also hear the first chirps of the birds as they awakened. 

She drew in a deep breath and savoured the rush of air that entered her body. The trees arched over her, black shapes against the sky. Her body felt strange. It was aching and stiff as if she had undergone some kind of operation. She brought up her hand and tenderly touched her chest. It was sealed. She frowned, trying to remember why that was strange. For a few moments, she was completely confused as to where she was...even who she was.

And then he spoke and she snapped back to reality, drawing in a sharp gasp as the fright gripped her suddenly.

"Your face is so full of expression when you dream."

She rolled her head to the right to see a dark hulking shadow, sitting atop a boulder. He was hunched over, staring at the ground with both hands on his knees. His optics were glowing dully.

"Rampage," she breathed.

Rampage was still and he remained so for a long time. Myst didn't dare move. She was quite aware that she was at his his mercy. Anything she did now could influence his decision on what to do with her. She could sense the conflict coming from him. He was still making up his mind about her - the fact that she was alive still was proof enough of that.

"Who did you think I was, Myst?" he asked suddenly, his voice low and mellow. He turned and looked at her, an intently curious look in his eyes.

Myst was locked in his gaze. She opened her mouth to reply but hesitated. Who _did _she think he was? How much thought had she really paid to the matter? She'd learned about his past, but he wasn't asking that. He was asking who she thought he was NOW. What did she see him as? A person, or an escaped experiment gone wrong? Yes, she was sure that was what he was asking.

"I've already answered that question," she said gently.

Rampage was stock-still and she could see him mentally turning over her words in his head, trying to decide things about them, and about her.

He turned away from her, muttering: "Not a bad person." He nodded slowly and shifted on his seat slightly. It was Myst's turn to be curious. She narrowed her optics and watched him closely. There was something...something _mocking_ in the way he did that. He'd echoed her words, but it was as if they had been so absurd that he was inwardly laughing at them, but the laugh was bitter. He was bitter.

"What_ is_ it, Rampage?" she asked, but her voice was not harsh. It was gentle and pressing. "Why have you kept me alive, and to what end?"

Rampage closed his eyes for a moment and she could have sworn he trembled slightly.

His optics relit and he stood up, turned and walked over to her. He stopped when he was standing beside her and he gazed down at her with soft curiosity. Then he lowered himself into a kneeling position. All the while Myst watched his face, trying to tune into his emotions. She was confused with what she was sensing.

Rampage tilted his head slightly with a vague frown on his face. "You know Myst, I'm really not quite sure _why_ I've kept you alive. I suppose it stems from a deep hatred for...'scientists', like Tarantulas. You're of no use to me in this state and logically I shouldn't care about what happens to you. It's just that..._**he**_ did this to you and by leaving you to die, I'll let him have a victory; a victory over us both."

Myst understood that but she was also aware that was not the full truth. He was keeping something from her. She could feel it.

"Rampage...how much of the outside world have you experienced?" she asked cautiously. His frown was gone in an instant and his optics seemed to turn a brighter shade of green. She definitely had his attention. It was a little unsettling to see the sudden change in him, but she continued: "What did you do in those four years after Omicron?"

Rampage stared fixedly at her, still as a grave. A coldness crept into his eyes and he seemed to be stalling as if he were debating on how to answer her question.

"Have you got a weak stomach?" he asked lowly.

"Huh?"

"I" his next few words were cut off by a comm. transmission. "Waspinator to crabbot! Megatron's resurfaced! He asked two-head about you."

Rampage's frown returned and he tapped his wrist. "What did two-headerm, Quickstrike, say?"

"That you were in your quarters. Megatron seems to have gone to recharge, but Waspinator not sure he bought two-head's story. Waspinator thinks that crabbot should"

"Fine." Rampage curtly cut the connection.

Myst blinked up at him. "What was that all about?"

Rampage waved his hand dismissively. "Megatron's been working on something underground. I took the opportunity to come out looking for you. I asked Waspinator to warn me when he showed up again."

"Shouldn't you head back to base then?" she asked wearily.

A peculiar expression came onto Rampage's face and Myst fancied there was a smile in his eyes. "I'll go only when I absolutely have to."

Myst began to reply to that when a painful jolt of energy ripped through her. She let out a guttural cry and clutched at her chest. Rampage shook his head slightly. "Besides, I can't leave you like _this_."

"So you're _finally_ going to kill me?" she wheezed, and Rampage chuckled at her effort at nonchalance.

"No," he stated simply and Myst stopped writhing and looked up at him worriedly.

"No Myst, I'm not going to kill you. Nor am I going to let you die. I'll get you back your power converter."

Another painful reaction to energon corruption tore through her chest and she grimaced. "H-how?" she gasped.

"I'm not entirely sure yet, since I don't know where it or Tarantulas is. But I'll think of something."

Myst's left hand clutched a handful of dirt while her right clawed at her chest in a futile attempt to rid herself of the pain. "Wh-why?" she stuttered breathlessly and her half-closed eyes opened to stare up searchingly into his.

"Because... Because you..." he trailed, struggling to find the right words.

Myst realized what chord she'd struck there. Finally, she understood him. He was quietly crying out for something. That emotion she couldn't pin a few days ago when he was fighting Depth Charge in the forest was clear to her now. It was loneliness and desolation. Rampage was extremely powerful and highly intelligent, but he was also desperately sad.

He couldn't say it, because he was too proud to admit out loud that he was profoundly lonely, and she was his only company.

"It's okay," she breathed. "I understand."

Rampage's posture slumped very slightly when he apprehended the fact that she'd broken through his barrier that hid his emotions. In the days that he'd known her, he'd noticed she was gradually getting better and better at reading him empathically. He had tried to mask his feelings and had just about kept above water, 'til now.

"You're hurting. Let me heal you, again," he offered softly.

"Again?" Myst blurted. "How many times have you repaired me?"

"Four."

Myst's eyes darkened as she coped with the shock. "Four," she echoed with a grim expression. "Rampage...you can't keep doing this..."

"Of course I can!" Rampage almost snapped. "I said to you I'd get your power converter back, and that's what I'll do. I'm not going to let you die too."

"Too?" Myst looked at him sharply.

Rampage's mouth was open for a few moments before he closed it and looked away.

"'Page," she pressed quietly. "Who was...?"

"Transmutate." He's said it so softly she had barely heard it. The name, for some odd reason, rang distant bells in her head. It provoked a dull sense of alarm, but she didn't know why.

"Transmutate?"

Myst could sense the agony and bitterness coming from him. His optics had grown dark with the pain and anger that Transmutate's memory brought back. "She...was a powerful transformer, like me...who was mutated in her pod because of the quantum surge. Her mind was only at drone level, but she had such potential. She trusted me and...and that got her killed."

He turned and looked at Myst sorrowfully and she felt a pang of sadness inside her. The raw, open display of hurt touched her, because it was so out of character for him. "It was an accident, Myst. She got in the way. Silverbolt and I were fighting over who got to keep her, and she tried to make us stop and got herself killed in the process." He raised a hand and clenched it into a fist. She could hear the metal of his fingers grinding into his palm and his body shuddered with the fury. "That _slagging_ fuzor..."

"I'm sorry," she cut in, unwilling to allow him to get any more angry than he already was. He was dangerous when he was angry. "I take it she was the only bot who ever "

"Believed me?"

"liked, you," Myst finished calmly.

Rampage snorted acrimoniously and turned his head away so that she could only see his profile. He bowed it as he wrestled with the violent urges the emotions linked with Transmutate conjured.

Myst knew deep down inside that she shouldn't take pity on Rampage. She knew that the peculiar desire to reach out to him and comfort him was not something that'd be wise to give in to. But for that moment, she was won over by the tormented soul in him and she couldn't help but try to give him something to hold on to.

"If it's any consolation, I like you," she uttered softly.

Rampage turned his head very slowly and stared at her wonderingly. "Myst," he finally broke the long silence between them. "You don't realize what you've just said."

With that puzzling statement, he slipped his hands under her and brought her up into his arms. He looked her over and then said: "I'm afraid my spark is used to healing from the inside out. I couldn't get it to heal your internals through your metal, so I had to split open your chest on three of those four occasions to access them."

"Oh," Myst said flatly. She grimaced in pain and at the thought of what she'd have to do next. "Okay, then I'll just...open my chest myself."

_'It's not like he hasn't seen my spark so many times already,'_ she thought unhappily. She closed her eyes and commanded her computer to open her chest panels. Gradually her chest plate embossed and lifted up, split into halves and pulled away on long hinges from each other. She opened her eyes again to see Rampage's face lit up with the blue light that radiated from her spark. It was a lot duller than it should have been.

"It's like a dying ember," he mused to himself. He settled her over his knees and slipped his fingers into her chest. She couldn't help but shiver. His own chest opened and the winding blue-red light travelled down his arm and into her body. She felt the cold burning feeling once more and the pain and damage began to fade. She was almost used to this procedure now and found herself, despite the awkwardness of the situation, feeling relatively peaceful.

When he was done he placed her back on the ground gently. She breathed out in a long, quivering sigh. She felt better, but it was an artificial sensation and she knew it. Very soon, the energon damage would begin again and she would relapse into pain. She couldn't bear to go through it all again.

Rampage glanced about him, as if he'd only just realized how oblivious he'd been to his surroundings. He made to get up, but Myst reached out and gripped his hand.

"Stay," she requested levelly. "Stay with me."

Rampage regarded her small, fragile hand holding his own much larger one. "Depth Charge could come. Or anyone, for that matter," he muttered.

"So? You can fend for yourself, and it's not like my position can get any worse." She finished her sentence with a faint grin.

"Myst, I'm going to have to take you to the Maximals," he sighed. Her smile faded. "What?"

He shook his head and closed his hand around hers. "Sooner or later I'm going to have to go back to the Darkside to do Megatron's bidding. Until I can get you back your converter, you're going to need to stay someplace safe with life support systems to keep you going in the meantime."

"But Rampage I hate"

"Don't be a hard-ass about that now, Myst," he scolded. "It's the only way this will work and it will buy me the time I need to track down Tarantulas."

Myst sighed and glared at nothing in particular. She didn't liken the idea one bit, but she couldn't argue with the logic.

"When?" she asked bluntly and without looking at him.

"Soon. Megatron's obviously gone to sleep for now, but he'll only be out for four hours or so. I'll take you when it's a bit lighter."

"And 'til then?"

"Til then? I'll stay with you."

Myst smiled faintly and lopsidedly. "Okay," she agreed.

Rampage hesitated a moment, not knowing what to do, but Myst gave him a clue when she tugged at his hand. He glanced down at her questioningly and she indicated he lie down next to her. Tentatively, if a little uncertainly, he rearranged himself and lay down beside her.

Both of them stared upwards at the arched, dark canopies of the trees. The crickets were still chirping and the birds started to resume shouting to each other from their seemingly invisible positions in the treetops.

"I'm so tired," Myst whispered.

"Perhaps if you left you chest plate open and I kept a hand there, I could provide a constant feed of repair-energy?" he suggested.

"Wouldn't that drain you?"

"A little, maybe, but it'd only be for a short while."

Rampage could just see her nodding from the corner of his vision.

"That makes sense."

She pulled up his hand she was still holding and re-opened her chest. She placed it on her middle and let his fingers slip over the edge of her gaping chest. He too re-opened his chest and almost immediately a charge of blue energy went from him to her. The energon corruption was a rapid process.

"Rampage," she murmured, her voice laden with impending sleep. "Tell me...what you did...after Omicron."

Rampage paused deliberately for a long time and true to his expectations, Myst slipped into a comfortable sleep before he could answer. Satisfied, he too let his optics dim and rested for the next hour, never quite asleep, but not totally awake, either.

* * *


	2. Killing Me Softly: Part 2

Killing Me Softly

**Part Two**

**By: **Sapphire (aka Malachite157)

**PG **L

* * *

Had the Maximals been aware that today was their day of reckoning, they would have been more tense that morning. Rattrap and Optimus were far from relaxed, but even they did not grip the seriousness of Rattrap's failed attempt to learn what Megatron was planning.

Cheetor bounded into the control room in an exceptionally good mood. He considered himself a positive bot at the best of times and so good moods were not a rare thing for him. He was a little jaded now and then; war did that to you, but for the most part he was happy in the company of his fellow Maximals.

Depth Charge, however, did not find himself in a good mood regularly and Cheetor's boundless energy and hopefulness wore on his patience very quickly.

The manta-ray bot had just finished hearing about Rattrap's mission in a private meeting between Optimus, Rattrap and himself. It was still quite early in the morning when the meeting finished and no sooner had Depth Charge turned away from the two than Cheetor entered the room smiling. If only the catbot knew what a dire situation they could be in... But he was told to keep quiet for now. Optimus was planning on holding another meeting later when he'd inform everyone of last night's events and hopefully, together, they'd brainstorm a way to expose Megatron.

"Hiya Depth Charge! Did ya sleep well?" Cheetor asked.

Depth Charge was about to reply that no, he hadn't slept at all, but Cheetor lost interest in the answer as soon as he finished the question.

"Big bot, what are we doing today? Am I on patrol this morning?"

Optimus was weary from a sleepless night and fought to keep his voice steady. "No, Cheetor. You're staying in today. We all are."

Cheetor transformed to robot mode and the catty grin he'd been wearing was no longer. "Why? What's the matter?"

"Pop Op's gonna fill ya in later. We're just waitin' fer da others ta wake up," Rattrap answered for his weary leader. Rattrap was certainly tired after the stress of last night's adventure, but he'd slept the whole afternoon before so he was better off than Optimus.

"Did something happen? You guys look worried," Cheetor observed.

"Oh! You noticed," Depth Charge snorted sarcastically. Optimus shot him a warning glare, but couldn't maintain the expression for long. He turned tiredly to Cheetor.

"Yes, but like Rattrap said, it's for later. What you can do is take the monitors for a while. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious."

"Sure," Cheetor replied quietly. The catbot may be young and perhaps a little too enthusiastic at times, but he was not stupid. He knew when things were amiss.

Depth Charge harrumphed and rolled his optics while Optimus just stared blearily at the mantabot. Rattrap looked at them both. "You guys are both real cranky. Look, we ain't gonna have da meetin' fer at least another hour. It can't hurt ta get some sleep in da meantime."

Optimus hesitated on that suggestion but when he saw Depth Charge nodding it seemed to sway him. If the manta bot was tired, then he certainly must be.

"All right. You make sure no one leaves the base, okay Rattrap?"

"'Course."

Depth Charge headed out of the room. Optimus glanced about as if looking for any excuse to keep him here, when in reality he knew there was nothing demanding his attention. As if reading his thoughts, Rattrap said: "Go on Optimus. We'll be okay without you fer an hour."

Optimus nodded softly, turned and left.

Rattrap sighed quietly and stared blankly at the monitors Cheetor was watching. He mentally ran through last night's escapade and tried to look for clues. There had to be something that he'd missed. There had to be a link. He tried to put pieces of information together, hoping they'd fit and the picture would become clearer. Surely it was there; Rattrap was almost certain he was missing something important.

But what?

* * *

Waspinator was another bot who'd had very little sleep that night. For the most part he'd been on edge, listening out for Megatron while also busying himself cleaning up the terrible mess Rattrap had made of the laboratory. He'd patched up the holes in the vents and in the outer wall before he'd contacted Rampage. After that he'd hovered around the corridor of Megatron's quarters for a bit, keeping a wary vigil on the tyrant until he was satisfied that he must be asleep. Only then did the wasp go to his own room and lie down on his recharge bed, exhausted, but unable to rest. His mind was a whir of thoughts and worries. What was going to happen to him? He was involved in a plan that he knew nothing about. He was grateful to Myst and, to a degree, Rampage as well. They had helped him when no one else would. But he'd been forced into an uneasy alliance with them and he knew nothing about what was in store for him.

There was also the worry that Rampage had not returned yet. Megatron could have been monitoring his comm. transmissions to the crab. If the Predacon leader found out that he was working with Rampage in any way...

Waspinator shuddered despite himself. He feared Megatron even more than the maniacal crab. He knew and had seen first hand how ruthless he could be.

Then there was Myst. As far as Tarantulas was concerned, she was on her way out. If Rampage was too late and she was dead, where would that leave him? In serious jeopardy, he figured. He was possibly of no more use to the crab and so he'd lost the only upper-hand he'd gained so far in this war. Megatron would soon find out that he was planning on betraying him and then it would all be over.

Or possibly worse still, Rampage could still want to use him, only without Myst's supervision. Waspinator was sure that, under her watchful eye, no harm would come to him. He trusted her because he could see the genuine kindness in her face.

Lastly, it was painfully obvious that Megatron was planning something huge. Yes, he'd let on in a meeting that they were all going to go on an 'excursion', but he'd also made it clear that some of them were going to get just a little hurt along the way. Waspinator didn't have to guess who was going to be first in the firing line.

Megatron's plans were usually pretty good and it was mostly flukes of very bad luck that spoiled them. Megatron also lacked a bit of foresight at times because he was so blinded by his own arrogance, he couldn't think that there'd be any flaws in his schemes.

Waspinator knew that regardless of whether they worked or not, Megatron's plans always got him hurt. He was tired of being the scapegoat for when things went wrong, and every time there was something on the horizon, he was filled with a sense of dread. In fact, Waspinator was dreading the next hour almost all of his life here on earth.

Whatever happened next, he was going to make sure that he did not end up the loser in the game. He simply wouldn't allow it. He'd play his cards safely for the time being, but when the right opportunity to get out of this precarious situation presented itself, he would take it.

With that self-reassurance, Waspinator finally allowed himself to fall asleep. He'd awake to a ruckus not long after.

* * *

Tarantulas was not a fan of water. He disliked sea water most of all. His body was not coated properly against it and the salt rusted his metal.

The Nemesis lay under a hundred feet of water, so he really had no choice but to go through it if he wanted to get to it. He'd built a submersible and had painstakingly edged along the ocean floor, building tracks as he progressed to the huge sunken ship. The track line was now complete and it allowed him to travel to and from the Nemesis with ease. Slowly but surely he was repairing the damage. It wouldn't be long now until the ship was fully functional.

That was what he'd needed the parts for. As soon as he'd returned from the Darkside he'd set to work using what Megatron had given him to fix the ship's main console. However, there were still some essential parts he was missing that apparently the rodent had destroyed. Tarantulas hated waiting for replacements, but he couldn't push his luck with Megatron. The Predacon had been very tired when they'd finished the weapon and Tarantulas had grudgingly agreed to let him sleep and return later that day for the parts.

He suspected Megatron was going to launch his super-attack today. The tyrant also hated waiting and there really was no point in delaying the assault on the Maximals now that the weapon was complete. This worked well for Tarantulas. He'd not been asked so far to help in the battle and if he was, he simply wouldn't pitch. He had bigger plans to attend to.

The spider slammed the console panel shut and sat down in a huge chair. It was designed for Decepticons, which were considerably larger than their descendants. Tarantulas felt small and insignificant when he first sat down, but soon his ego filled the whole chair as he thought about what he was going to be doing soon. He would man this ship and when that happened, it would be the end for the Maximals and Predacons and the beginning of a new era for him.

He sighed and stared at his handiwork. The console was fixed and all that needed tending to now were the thrusters. They'd taken a hammering from the crash and while he'd repaired the major damage, small but important parts had splintered off from them and they needed to be re-added. The parts were long gone now and so he needed what was left of his promised load from Megatron to complete them.

He grumbled and leaned his face on his fist. Yes, he certainly hated waiting. He hated being this tired, too. He'd not slept a wink in 24 hours.

'_Bah! There's no time for sleep in this war,_' he thought. He leapt off the chair and headed for the exit. Even though he wasn't going to involve himself in Megatron's attack, he did think it wise to monitor what happens. He was counting on the Predacon leader to keep everyone occupied while he completed his work on the Nemesis.

As long as he got the parts he needed, he was content. For now he'd go to his lab and keep watch on the Predacon base. As soon as Megatron emerged from his quarters, he'd demand his parts. The sooner he got them the better.

* * *

Rampage pulled himself out of his daze. He had been dozing off and forcibly waking himself up a number of times over the past two hours. While he knew that he could indeed hold his own against an attack, he wasn't worried about himself. He was worried about Myst. She was in an especially vulnerable position with her chest gaping open like it was and her being too weak even to run if she had to. The last thing he wanted was that sadistic spider sneaking up on the pair of them while they were asleep and taking her from him. That would be the last straw.

He decided to stay fully awake now. The sun was up in the sky and the dull grey light of earlier had changed into a warm, soft yellow that filtered down through the trees. The twittering of the birds filled the jungle now that day had firmly set in. They'd have to get moving soon. It wouldn't be long before Megatron woke up and he didn't doubt that he'd make him pay for leaving without consent. He had to deliver Myst to the Maximals and get back to base.

His optics darkened at the thought of the Maximals. Rampage knew that this was as good as goodbye. As soon as she was in their hands, they'd tell her the truth about him. If she was anything like the average bot was, she'd freak out and her reaction would be the same as theirs; she'd hate and disgust him.

Only, as far as he was concerned (and this was going on what little social experience he **did** have with other transformers) Myst was not your average bot. It was why he liked her so much. There was the possibility, however small, that she may not hate him when she found out. That maybe, just maybe, she could understand and...forgive him.

Rampage frowned. He didn't think what he'd done was wrong. It was, apparently, his single biggest fault. He had no morals. He felt no regret for all the lives he'd taken on Omicron and thereafter. According to Depth Charge and everyone else, that was what made him sick. That was what made him someone to be feared and reviled because a bot with no morals, a bot who simply couldn't discern right from wrong, was not a bot at all. It was a monster.

But she hadn't called him a monster. She'd called him a person. She had always treated him as a person. Granted, she didn't know his full history, but the fact remained that she saw humility in him and surely that meant that he wasn't a monster. Surely that meant there was some normality and sanity in him?

Rampage, despite what he stubbornly told himself, did care about that. He was happy to roam free and do as he wanted. He was happy, like Myst, not to be a part of society. He was happy to be an immortal and therefore special...but he was not happy to be so completely alone. While he enjoyed the relationship he had with Depth Charge and the respect and fear other bots had for him, it was a refreshing change once in a while to have one person talk to him as if he wasn't a thing. To have an intellectual conversation with him without being overwhelmed with anger or disgust or terror.

Myst provided him that, and he liked it. So to give her away to them and in essence give up the only chance he had at achieving that, well...it was not something he wanted to do. But he had to do it. He'd lose her altogether if he didn't. For some deep-seated reason he felt in debt to her. He shouldn't feel that way, if one were to look at things on the surface. After all, he'd provided her with energon and protection while she had not fulfilled her end of their deal. No, he felt in debt to her because she had given him something for more important than that. She'd given him her friendship. The least he could do to repay her kindness, however brief it was, was to give her another chance at life. How she chose to live it once she heard the news about him was up to her. Rampage had already settled down to the fact that more than likely, she'd want nothing to do with him after. It hurt, but then everything did. He was a bot doomed to unhappiness and he knew it.

He turned his head to the right to look at her. She'd snuggled up to him in her sleep and her head was resting on his shoulder. His hand was still partially inside her to keep the feed of energy constant. She was right: he did feel drained. It was asking quite a lot of his spark, immortal though it may be, to constantly repair her. And he had felt her pain even when she didn't. She was not aware of it while she was asleep, but Rampage had to tune into her physical anguish all the time in order for the connection to work. He didn't mind, really. He was used to feeling others' pain.

He brought up his left hand and very gently stroked her cheek. Her metal was smooth and cool. Her facial expression was calm as if in a dreamless sleep, but his touch caused a faint smile. He wondered why.

Two noisy birds squawked at one another and fluttered clumsily out of the tree they were in. The noise disturbed them both. Myst stirred.

"Hmm? WhaRampage?" she murmured, her eyes half-opening.

"Just birds, although I think we should leave now."

Myst's eyes closed again and she sighed. "Do we have to?" she asked sleepily.

"Yes."

Another sigh and her shoulders sagged. "Stupid Maximals."

Rampage smirked and shook his head slightly. "Yes they are, but it's where you must stay, for now."

He shifted away from under her and gathered her up in his arms and stood. Myst blinked up at him and watched as his breast pates snapped closed.

"Primus, you really did keep the feed going all this time?" she uttered, copying his action.

"It's no big deal," Rampage dismissed. He looked away from her and narrowed his optics as he scanned the jungle ahead of them. The coast_ looked_ clear...

"So what are you going to do about...about getting your spark back?" Myst queried uncertainly.

Rampage started walking forward and she wrapped her arms around his neck for extra security.

"Waspinator. He's still in debt to me and I could still use him."

Myst found that mildly surprising. She did not think he was seriously intending on using the little Predacon at all.

"And then what?"

"And then I find Tarantulas. I'll need him to tell me where your converter is, and to merge my spark. Of course it'd be nice if you could stand watch when he performed the operation, but I don't suppose you'll want to, by that stage."

Myst frowned. "Why?"

Rampage's expression went grave. '_Because by then you'll know about me,_' he thought, but he never answered out loud. Myst decided not to push the issue. When Rampage didn't want to speak, it was best to respect that.

"Thank you," she murmured. Rampage's pace faltered for a moment, but he quickly resumed walking.

"Thanks for everything," she finished.

He was silent the rest of the journey.

* * *

Megatron awoke with a start and almost immediately got to his feet. Considering he'd only had four hour's sleep he really shouldn't be feeling this energetic. It must be the excitement of the day ahead that was making him so aware.

He did his routine room check to make sure nothing was out of place and then he checked for Rampage's spark cage. Yes, it was still there. It was always a small relief to see it glimmering at him from its jagged-toothed container. He took it and put it in his subspace pocket and then left his room.

No sooner had he stepped into the corridor than his comm. link bleeped. He opened the channel.

"I want my parts now."

Megatron grumbled at Tarantulas's demand. "Fine." He cut the connection and frowned crossly. He disliked being on the receiving end of orders, but it was in his best interests to deliver on Tarantulas's request. It would only cause him more headaches if he didn't and the spider took matters into his own hands.

"Inferno!" he bellowed. Within seconds the antbot had scurried down the passageway and stood to attention before his leader.

"Yes, Royalty!"

Megatron took out a holopad with a list of the parts Tarantulas had wanted. He touched several lines on the list to highlight what the spider still needed.

"Take this list and put the parts specified into a container and bring it to the control room," he ordered and gave Inferno the pad.

Inferno glanced over it briefly and then saluted. "At once my Queen!" With that he took off down the corridor in the direction of the storage room. It'd probably take about a half megacycle for the bot to sort through all the equipment down there and find the specific parts, but Megatron knew it would take anyone else twice as long. Inferno, for all his faulty programming, was fast and efficient.

Megatron walked to the control room and barked his second order of the day.

"Quickstrike, wake up!"

The little fuzor awakened in a flurry of arms and legs and tumbled off his chair. He scrambled to his feet and faces his commander with a dazed expression.

"Yes bossbot!"

Megatron glared at him. "Contact everyone and have them come here. It's time for a meeting."

Quickstrike wavered for a few moments as he wondered whether or not Rampage had returned, but he couldn't try Megatron's patience any longer and so he opened all comm. channels.

"Quickstrike to all units. Mee'n in the control room. Report immediately." He turned to the Predacon leader once more but got no approving look from him. Instead he got another glare.

"Did you check everyone was inside the base?" he asked irritably.

"Uh, no, I'll do that," Quickstrike stammered and turned back to the computers. Megatron didn't trust him and so he came up quietly behind him, but the fuzor was still too sleepy to notice.

"Yep everyone's"

"Rampage is missing!" Megatron snapped. Quickstrike fell of his chair again.

"You idiot! How dare you lie to me?" he raged at the fuzor. Quickstrike scrambled back in fear. "I'm sorry bossbot, but crabby made me swear not to tell. He were gonna kill me if I did!"

"And what did you suppose **_I_** was going to do if you didn't?" Megatron growled.

Quickstrike gulped and shrugged helplessly. Megatron scowled at him furiously for a few tense more moments before relaxing slightly. There was no point taking out his anger on the fuzor now. It was ultimately unimportant. He'd just make sure Quickstrike bore the brunt of any retaliation the Maximals gave today when they attacked.

"Tell Inferno not to bother coming to the meeting. He needs to concentrate on his first assignment," the Predacon commanded as he noted Inferno's signature moving obediently through the base towards them. Inferno always followed a consecutive order.

Quickstrike cautiously approached his chair again and climbed back on. He did as he was told while Megatron turned away from him and took something out from his subspace pocket.

* * *

Rampage was only two hundred metres away from the Maximal base and was just about to contact them when he was forced to his knees.

He just managed to put Myst down before submitting entirely to the excruciating pain that throbbed in his chest.

Myst managed to sit up and she stared at him in alarm. "Rampage, what's wrong!"

The crabbot keeled over, howling in agony. Waves of blue energy rippled through him and he clawed at his chest. "Mega...tron..." he gasped.

Suddenly the pain stopped and Rampage just caught himself from falling forward. He panted and waited for the inevitable bleep from his comm. It came a second later.

"Thought you'd go for a stroll, did you?" came Megatron's smooth, condescending voice. It was the first time Myst had heard him and even from just listening to that voice she instinctively knew Megatron was an evil bot.

"I'm coming back," Rampage snarled. His tone of voice was obviously not appreciated as another wave of pain gripped him. He cried out and fell to the floor, rolling onto his side and curling up somewhat. Myst wanted to do something to help, but she knew that there was nothing she could do and it was best that she hide her presence from the bot torturing Rampage on the other side.

"That's beside the point. I _ordered_ you to stay within the base and you defied me. Again."

The pain seemed to intensify as Megatron emphasized his point. Rampage gasped and his shut eyes flew open as he clutched at his chest. Myst reached out to touch him but withdrew her hand before she got too close. Touching him might make things worse.

"J-just...give me...a few more cycles. I'll...b-be back...soon...very soon," Rampage wheezed.

The pain lingered an agonizing moment longer and then ceased. Rampage's whole body sagged afterwards and he breathed heavily.

"You come back to base _right now_. You're stalling a meeting! If you take a second more than ten cycles to get here, you will suffer for it. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," Rampage muttered with effort.

"Megatron out."

The connection died and Rampage heaved a sigh. He allowed himself a few moments to recover.

"Primus," he heard Myst exclaim from out of his view. "That's brutal."

"No kidding," Rampage grumbled as he regained himself. He pulled himself to his knees, still suffering the echoes of pain that coursed through his spark and filled his being.

"Rampage, I had no idea" she began but was cut off by the sound of approaching footsteps. She turned to the source of the noise and a moment later, Depth Charge burst through the trees. His optics widened for a moment, then narrowed at the sight of Rampage. He brought up his gun.

"Wait!" Myst cried and held up her hands. Depth Charge paused and glared at her. "I don't even want to know what you're doing here, but X is in my territory and he's not welcome."

"I know," Myst spoke before Rampage could. Rampage sat back and watched her explain the situation.

"But he came here with good intentions this time, I swear." Depth Charge immediately looked skeptical and adjusted his gun. "He came here to bring me to you!" Myst panicked.

Depth Charge froze at that statement and looked at her intently. "What?"

Myst shot a glance at Rampage who merely stared at her inquisitively in response. She turned back to Depth Charge. "I'm dying. Tarantulas attacked me and took my power converter. Rampage has healed me for the moment, but the deterioration's starting aga"

"Wait a cycle," Depth Charge interrupted. "He _healed_ you?"

"Yes, yes" Myst dismissed his curiosity impatiently. "Anyway he needs you_I_ need you to keep me on life support for a while he retrieves my converter from Tarantulas. I won't survive alone and that's why he's brought me here to you...if you'll have me," she added pleadingly.

Depth Charge continued to stare at her incredulously. He slowly turned to Rampage.

"Is this...is this _true_?" he battled to ask the crabbot.

Rampage nodded slowly. "Yes. Believe it or not, Fins, I honestly didn't plan on hurting this one. Quite the opposite."

Both Myst and Depth Charge looked confused at that statement, but it was the Maximal who spoke first. "Then what were you planning on doing?"

Rampage got to his feet slowly and held up his hands to show he meant no harm. "Look, there's no time to explain. Myst's in a lot of trouble and she needs your help. So stop being a suspicious, revenge-driven brute for a change and act like a _Maximal_. Take her in, put her on life support and give me the time I need to get back what she's lost. I'll only be a few days, at most."

Depth Charge was completely taken aback by Rampage's behaviour. The crab was showing him a side that until now, Depth Charge had assumed he didn't have.

"All right," the Maximal replied, "But"

"No time for buts, just take her!" Rampage urged. He bent down and gathered her up in his arms and offered her to Depth Charge. The mantabot hesitantly took her.

Myst stared wide-eyed at Rampage as he passed her into Depth Charge's grip. His face wore a fixed grim expression as he did so and he refused to acknowledge the urgent questions in her eyes.

"Rampage," she uttered and grabbed loosely at his hand. Rampage stepped away from her and her hand slipped from his when he moved out of reach. Somehow that simple loss of touch filled Myst with sadness. Rampage was radiating regret and misery but he was refusing to show it.

He gave Depth Charge a steady but faintly pleading look. "Do it, Fins." After that he transformed to tank mode and rumbled off into the jungle.

Both Myst and Depth Charge stared after him. A few minutes later, Cheetor and Silverbolt came rushing up behind them. Depth Charge turned to the two and ignored their surprised expressions.

"Get the life support systems ready. We've got a patient."

* * *

Megatron turned to his Predacons, satisfied now that Rampage was on his way back. He'd question the crab later about what he was doing so close to the Maximal base, but right now other things were more important.

Waspinator and Quickstrike looked up at him expectantly. Megatron wouldn't usually be so fussy about having Rampage back with him but he was painfully lacking in troops. Tarantulas was no longer aligned with him, but when the spider came to collect his parts he'd try his luck at getting him to join in the effort. Depending on what suited him, the scientist sometimes agreed to assist.

"When Rampage returns I will explain in full what's happening. In the meantime, I want you to arm yourselves well. There's going to be a battle and it would be better for you both if you had enough ammo to last you."

They both nodded and left to retrieve their weapons and ammunition. Megatron watched them go and then opened a comm. channel to Tarantulas. He didn't bother with an introduction.

"Just to let you know, Rampage is on his way here too, so you'd do well to hurry and avoid crossing paths," he warned the spider.

"I'm almost there. Are the parts sorted?"

"Almost. Megatron out."

The Predacon leader walked absently over to the console and drummed his fingers on it. He was feeling tense but excited. Today he would annihilate the Maximals in one fell swoop. Of course he'd field test the weapon first. He'd blast the doors to smithereens before he tried it on any Maximals.

One hit from the weapon, if it worked like it was supposed to, would completely destroy any Transformer in its path. Half the problem with this war was that their weapons were ineffective against each other. Unless applied in force and quantity, their laser fire usually did nothing but injure or knock a bot into stasis lock, allowing time for the enemy's comrades to come to their aid. What Megatron had devised was a simple solution. A one-hit, one-kill weapon that was not only built like a tank but was also very accurate and quick to recharge.

He would get his moment inside the Ark and this time he would make sure that no Maximal survived it.

* * *


End file.
